


Harry Gets Some Common Sense

by Amelia_Claw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Claw/pseuds/Amelia_Claw
Summary: At times, Harry (and some others) really need this thing called common sense. Aka, Harry does his best to make sure he won't die! Chapters are a series of one-shots. One shots can be adopted by others if asked (and given) permission.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry squirmed around in the tiny sidecar of the flying motorcycle. His hand brushed against the cold metal stuck in the waistband of his pants. He had bought the gun in a rather shady part of London, and considering how little it had cost, Harry suspected the sketchy man he had bought it from had stolen it. Harry really didn't care though-one man's misfortune is another man's gain, after all. And considering what he was going to use it for, and all the lives it would potentially save, Harry thought the cost of one stolen gun was definitely worth it. It was funny, Harry thought, that before his mentor died, he would of never considered it. Dumbledore's death had proved one thing to him though- even the best of men eventually, and if you didn't want to join them, you had to fight dirty. And killing Tom with a muggle gun, instead of the wand that the evil man would expect was definitely dirty. Harry was just glad the Mudungus was horrible guard, and Harry could slip out to London that day.

 

Harry groaned as the Death Eaters showed up. He couldn't use the gun until Volde showed up, as the minions would warn their master of all villainous ways. He sighed, and pulled out the wand, and flicked it, setting the tails of their brooms on fire. "Harry!" Hagrid gasped.

 

"Would you prefer to be dead?" Harry asked grumpily. He hated killing. He might need to do it, but he still didn't like it.

 

"You can't just kill them!" Hagrid protested.

 

"How did you expect me to detain them? First, we're in the air. Not possible. Second, the Ministry's fallen. Where do you expect me to put them. Third, they are murderers, Hagrid. They like killing and torturing people. Why would would I want to save them?"

 

Hagrid sighed, and looked like he was going to say something, but they saw a white shape flying towards them."It's You-Know-Who!" Hagrid gasped. Harry wished he had a wall he could hit his head on as he pulled the gun and aimed. Once he had a clear shot, he pulled the trigger. The metal bullet lodged itself into the Dark Lord's bright white target of head. Blood gushed, and the man fell. Harry smirked- killing him with a muggle weapon would kill the horcruxes, too. Harry had found it in a book in Sirius' house when he had gone to London. The book's author had known it was possible, but had died while trying to kill his own Dark lord, and he had tried to kill the Dark lord with a sword, as guns hadn't been invented yet. Needless to say, he had died gruesomely, leaving his son to publish the book. Then Harry screamed as his scar burned, and a black, sticky liquid oozed out. "Ew" Harry muttered. "He was in my head- no wonder the scar never faded over.

 

"Harry, you killed him!" Hagrid grinned as he watched the now mortal man fall. Even if the bullet in his head didn't kill him, the ground definitely would!

 

"Yeah, but now all of his minions are going to want to revenge. And they know where he was." Harry pointed out, which got Hagrid driving again.

 

Unfortunately, the Death Eaters caught up to them, and Harry light more brooms on fire. He hated to do it, as evil minions can apparently could get their hands on some very good brooms, but if he burned them, muggles would only find the bodies, and not the brooms. They would see the intricate masks, and assume they were a part of a cult, which was murdered all over the country, and not re-start the witch hunts. If there was anything that Harry had learned from Binns was that witch hunts were very dangerous.

 

Harry fought at least 30 Death Eaters before they made it to the safe house. Fortunately, since he lit them on fire the second he could, neither he or Hagrid were seriously injured, with only a few scratches apiece. Harry had a feeling that it would of been a lot worse it it hadn't of been for the little gun. Harry knew he still had to fight with the rest of the Death Eaters, and make sure the ministry was not corrupt, but he might actually make it to his final year of wizarding school! After that, he thought he would travel the world, and find a place they didn't consider him a legend, the second coming of Merlin. He definitely would never want to be an auror ever again- he had enough of fighting bad guys on the public's whim.

 

After fighting the rest of the Death Eaters, Harry lived the rest of his life in (relative) peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small chapters are added together and separated by lines of "NFNFNFNFNFNFNFNF"

Chapter 2

 

All Harry knew was that Lockhart was rather incompetent. So when he brandished his wand, proclaiming that HE would fix Harry's arm, Harry rolled out the way of the spell before it could hit him. Instead it hit Draco Malfoy's leg, as he had been standing behind Harry and jeering at the injured Gryffindor. Malfoy fell to the ground screaming in terror as his leg turned to a jello like flopping thing. Harry quickly stood up, better to dodge the next spell.

Fortunately, it wouldn't come. An angry Madame Promprey charged out of the stands, shrieking at Lockhart.

And for the first time, Harry was glad that Malfoy's 'father would hear of this.', as it might just rid them of the blundering blonde wizard.

Two weeks later, Lockhart had been fired, and an Auror that was on injured leave was their teacher. Injured Aurors would keep rotating until Dumbledore had found a better, more qualified professor. Another good thing was that the Aurors had found both a huge Basilisk and an evil enchanted diary and had killed them both. Harry was just happy he didn't have to deal with them.

NFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNF

 

Harry was done. This was the third time this month that Snape had docked 15 points from Gryffindor for something like ‘breathing to loud’. He glared at the man, dumped the vial of his finished potion on the ‘Professors’ desk, and flung his stuff into his bag, then marched out the door, even though there was still 15 minutes left in class. He knew that Professor McGonagall had a free period, and wanted to know what the Deputy head, and head of Gryffindor thought of Snape’s bias.

 

“He does What!” The angry professor yelled.

 

“I’m assuming you don’t have any way to keep track of points awarded and lost, Professor?” Harry asked innocently. He had perfected the innocent look after years in the Dursley household.

 

“Yes, but no one ever reads it.” She told him as she reached into her desk and pulled out a dusty book. She opened it and read for a couple of minutes. “Thank you, Mr. Potter for informing me of this. I assure you it will be taken care of.” she said, glaring at the book. Harry took that as his dismissal, and walked out.

 

By the time two weeks had passed, Snape had been fired, and they had a new potions professor, who actually knew how to teach. She didn’t dock points for unfair reasons, she told them when they were doing something wrong, and she told them why ingredients reacted the way that they did. But, best of all, she didn’t let the Slytherins throw things into other people cauldron! Goyle was promptly yelled at, and given 2 detentions scrubbing cauldrons the only time he tried. Nobody else had tried. Harry’s grade in potions was actually good, for once! All and all, Harry decided that if a teacher did something that he didn’t like, he would report them.


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

“An ordinary common or garden rat like this can’t be expected to live longer then three years or so. Now, if you want-” The witch that was working the desk at Magical Menagerie said.

 

“Is it possible for them to be eight or older?” Harry interrupted, guessing the age.

 

“Oh, no, certainly not!”

 

“Is there any spell you can do, to see why this one has lived so long?”

 

“I’d have to get my manager over here, but yes. Don’t worry, he’ll be curious, too.” she told them, as Scabbers frantically tried to escape. She just grabbed a cage and put him in it, and locked the door. Frantic squeaking could be heard form inside it. “Sorry, but I was afraid he was going to escape.”

 

“It’s ok.” Ron said as a man walked out from the back of the store.

 

“Susan, what do you need?”

 

“These two have a really old rat, and were wondering how it is possible for the rat to be this old.” Susan explained.

 

“How old is he?” the manager asked Ron.

 

“I don’t know. He belonged to my older brother before I got him. At least 9, maybe as old as 12.” Ron told them.

 

Susan and her manager looked at each other hesitantly. “Ok, kid. If the rat glows blue, it’s fine, just an uncommonly well taken care of rat, whose special abilities help it age. But if it glows red, I want you to get back as far as you can.” the manager told them.

 

“Ok. Thank you, sir.” Harry said, with Hermione walking up behind them curiously. Harry quickly filled her in. She instantly started speculating on what the red glow could mean, but Harry, seeing Ron’s whitening face, shoved his elbow into her ribs to make her be quiet. Once she saw Ron’s face, she instantly went silent, although she was rubbing her ribs.

 

The manager pulled out his wand, and when Scabbers saw it, he started frantically trying to get away. It didn’t work to well, as he was still trapped in the cage. The manager pointed his wand at the rat, and mummered a spell. Scabbers instantly glowed red. Harry and Ron plowed backwards, pushing Hermione, who was still standing behind them. They didn’t stop until Hermione’s back hit a row of cages. They could still see what was happening, though, so they could see the manager quickly casting a charm on the cage. They could also see Susan running for the fireplace and throwing a handful of floo powder in it, then sticking her head in. 20 seconds later, she pulled her head out, and stepped back. The fire flared a brighter green, and a group of men and one woman in bright red uniforms stepped out. The men all stepped out of the woman’s way, and she recast the spell that the manager had used. She nodded to one of the men after once again getting the red glow, and he picked up the case, and walked towards the floo with it, then one of the others flung a handful of powder in for him, as his arms were full. He stepped into the green flames and yelled “Auror command”, and disappeared. One of the men followed him, while the rest stayed. The woman quietly talked to the manager for a moment, then she walked over to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

 

“Hello. My name is Amelia Bones, and I am the head of the DMLE” the stern looking woman said.

 

“What is happening?” Ron asked, eyes wide.

 

Amelia looked awkward, like she didn’t know how to explain it without sending Ron (and Harry and Hermione, for that matter) into hysterics. “It’s possible that the results were fake, but we are investigating it right now.”

 

“And?” Ron asked impatiently.

 

“It’s possible that your rat is an Animagus.” Amelia Bones admitted.

 

“What’s that?” Ron asked.

 

Hermione had gone very white. “A human that can transform into an animal- in this case a rat. Professor McGonagall is one, too.” she said quickly

 

“Exactly.” Amelia Bones said.

 

Ron looked faint “what? That can’t be possible.” He stuttered.

 

“Unfortunately, it is.” Bones said.

 

“What’s going to happen now?” Harry asked.

 

“Well, if we were wrong, and it is really a rat, we will give him back. If it isn’t, we interrogate him, then put him in prison. What he did is illegal, no matter how you look at it.” she told them. “Now, do you know where your parents are? I need to explain this to them.”

 

In the next few weeks, the papers where filled with all sorts of interesting things. Making no mention of how they found him, they reported Peter Petigrew alive, and that he was the one that did everything that Sirius Black was supposed to have done, including killing 12 muggles, and selling Harry’s parents to Voldemort. Harry felt sick, knowing he had held, and fed he reason his parents were dead. Ron and Percy were worse, though. When their dorm mates had asked where Scabbers had gone, Ron had told them that he had died, which was technically true, as Pettigrew was sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss. Harry was glad that the Dementors were gone from Hogwarts, they had left when it was discovered that Sirius Black was innocent. Black had turned himself into the Ministry when he had learned that Pettigrew had captured, and had brought a chilling tale of being through into the world’s worst prison on hearsay. Bartimus Crouch, the man who had thrown Sirius into prison, was quickly fired, and placed under investigation, which allowed the Aurors to find the man’s murderous, lunatic son, who had supposedly died in Askaban, inside his house. Harry discovered, a month later, that Sirius Black was his godfather. He promptly arranged a meeting with the man during a Hogsmede visit (the man had sent a signed permission form to Dumbledore), and found that he liked the man more then he would ever like the Dursleys. Sirius had started arranging for him to get guardianship of Harry, and a place for them to live that wasn’t his creepy mansion. All in all, Harry was happy. And so was Ron- the Ministry had given him a free owl. A year later, during their summer vacation, Hermione bought the cat she had been looking at while Ron and Harry were talking to the cashier. She promptly named him Crookshanks.


	4. chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Harry stared at the note that McGonagall had delivered to him, Hermione and Neville during breakfast. He would be willing to bet that Malfoy had gotten the same note.

 

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.

Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor McGonagall

 

“So because we were out after curfew, for the first time, we have to go out into the forbidden forest, at midnight? What idiot thought of this?” Harry asked.

 

“What is the point of yelling at us for being out after curfew if they are going to send us out after curfew?” Neville asked.

 

“I have no idea.” Hermione admitted.

 

“Is it just me, or do wizards have no logic?” Harry asked.

 

“What’s logic?” Neville asked, showing very clearly to the two muggle raised that he was a pureblood with no muggle interaction.

 

“Point proved.” Harry grinned, and the bell rang, causing them to run to class.

 

Their next class was history, but fortunately Binns’ voice put everyone to sleep almost instantly, so there wasn’t the fighting that happened in every other class that had the Gryffindors with the Slytherins. Harry planned to take advantage of the fact that everyone in Binns class fell asleep within five minutes- except Hermione, of course.

 

“Hello, Malfoy.” Harry whispers once everyone else is asleep.

 

“What do you want, Potter.” Malfoy whispers back, and Hermione gives them an incredulous glance- probably amazed that they had exchanged 7 words, and they weren’t fighting yet.

 

“I was wondering if you had gotten the same detention that we had.” Harry told him.

 

“Detention in the forest, at midnight?” Malfoy questions, and Harry nods “Why?

 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that breaking two rules at once? Being in the forest, and being out after curfew?”

 

“True.” Malfoy admits “But, again, Why?”

 

“Forgive me if I don’t want to get eaten.” Harry snaps, but quietly. “Have you tried complaining? To Snape, or your father?”

 

“No. The Headmaster set it up- we’d so be expelled.”

 

“I kinda prefer expelled to dead.” Harry pointed out.

 

“I’d hate to be expelled, but Harry is right. It is better then being dead.” Hermione added. Harry had to work to keep his jaw from dropping. Fortunately, he managed to. He didn’t want to know the consequences if he didn’t.

 

“I’ll send a letter to my father the second we get out of class, then go complain to Snape during my free period. I know he has it free, too.” Malfoy told them.

 

“Thanks, Malfoy.” Harry said.

 

“I don’t want to die either, Potter.”

 

Three hours later, Harry and all of the other students in Harry’s charms class were treated to the spectacle of watching Lucius Malfoy and his wife storming up the drive of Hogwarts, looking furious. Following behind them was a group of individuals that Susan Bones informed the class was the Board of Education. They also looked murderous. Looks like Malfoy’s letter got to his father Harry thought, amused.

 

The next week was filled with changes for Hogwarts. Dumbledore was fired, for sending four first years into something the seventh years would be hard pressed to fight (Somehow, the Hogwarts gossip network never learned who the other three were. They know Malfoy was one, as his mother had come with the board, but there were no other families with the board). Also, the board had found a demented obstacle course on the 3rd floor(the rumor network still didn’t know what it was hiding) But the worst thing that they had found was several things that belonged to Harry, and a few things that belonged to other orphans whose parents that had been killed by Voldemort in Dumbledore’s office. Their were also machines that where hooked up to Harry, by his blood, which were all promptly destroyed.

 

In the middle of all this, McGonagall was put on probation, but not fired. Professor Flitwick was promoted to temporary Headmaster, and they had a new charms teacher, Jane Murphy. Binns and the Divination professor had both been sacked, and the board was currently trying to find replacements. But the scariest part was that Quirrell had apparently dropped dead in the middle a teachers meeting. When the magical version of a coroner had looked at him, he had found that Quirrell had been possessed by someone very evil and dark. The board was doing a much more comprehensive search for his replacement. The board had fixed the wards, and while doing that, they had learned that Ron’s rat was a animagus, and the man who had betrayed Harry’s parents. So, Sirius Black (who Harry learned was his godfather), was set free.

 

Other then all of the drama, Harry was happy. He didn’t have to do the deadly detention, and he several of his parents things back. Voldemort never rose, and he was living with his godfather, who didn’t beat or starve him. Life was perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry looked at the red-headed woman in confusion. She was surrounded by older kids, one of whom Harry could see a wand sticking out of his pocket, so what was she doing shouting about wizarding things in a muggle station? Harry waited at a discreet distance, and then watched her children charge into a wall, oblivious to the stares of the people around them. The people hadn’t noticed them charging into a wall, but when an entire family of red heads was in your way one second, then gone the next, you tend to notice, apparently. Harry made his way over to the wall, noticing that it was the 3rd pillar out of four, on platform 9, and felt like smashing his head into said pillar. He really should of thought of that sooner. Apparently, the wizard’s lack of logic was catching. Harry casually leaned onto the pillar, easing his way through it, then was on a mess of a platform that certainly wasn’t muggle. There were owls everywhere, both in cages and free. A lot of people were wearing robes, which made Harry wonder why the red heads weren’t, but he abandoned that thought in favor of getting on the train. He had a bit of difficulty getting his trunk on the rain, but a fellow student helped him with his, and Harry helped the boy with his own trunk, and they decided to go find a compartment to sit in, so they wouldn’t be utterly alone, with nobody they knew. While they were searching for an empty compartment, Harry learned that the boy’s name was Neville Longbottem, and that he was also a first year. Just as they found a compartment, Harry captured a toad that was escaping Neville’s pocket.

 

“Is he yours?” He asked the boy.

 

“Yes. Thank you! He is always trying to escape.”

 

“Why don’t you get him a cage?”

 

“I never thought of that- I’ll have to owl my Grandmother when we get to Hogwarts.” Neville smiled as the train whistle rang through the air and started to move. For better or worse, they were off to Hogwarts.

NFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNF

 

Harry stopped Ron a second before he went storming up the girls staircase. “Remember what happened last time a guy tried to get up these stairs?” he reminded the redhead.

 

Ron’s ears went red. “Oh, yeah.”

 

“Hey, can you ask Hermione Granger to come down?” he asked an amused 4th year girl. She blushed and rushed up the stairs.

 

Seconds later, Hermione herself came down. Why do you want me?”

 

“Have you seen this?!” Ron snapped, pointing at the latest of Umbridge’s degrees, which was hanging in it’s frame on the Common room wall.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

This starts in the middle of the feast in first year.

 

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again after the food disappeared. The hall fell silent.

 

“Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.”

 

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

 

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

 

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

 

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

 

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

 

Harry watched his fellow first year faces as Dumbledore talked about the school. His announcements about the third floor got many frightened looks from not just the first years.

 

“Is he serious!” Harry hissed.

 

“Apparently.” Neville Longbottem whispered back.

 

“Is that normal?” he asked a few of the normal students.

 

“No, but that’s why he is warning you not to go there.”

 

“So you are telling me, out of the hundreds of students here, nobody is going to get curios and go look?” Harry questioned.

 

Hermione Granger looked pale “Of course people are going to go look. It’s like saying ‘don’t think about pink elephants’, and then all you can think about is pink elephants. It’s basic logic!

 

“What’s logic?” Ron Weasley asked. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and sighed, but were interrupted by Dumbledore before they could start explaining.

 

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Harry absentmindedly noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed. He groaned internally- he just knew this was going to sound awful.

 

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

 

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

 

And the school bellowed:

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot,

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.”

 

 

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.

 

Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. “Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

 

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy and another perfect through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry’s legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

 

They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

 

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

 

“Peeves,” Percy whispered to the first years. “A poltergeist.” He raised his voice, “Peeves — show yourself.”

 

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

 

“Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?”

 

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

 

“Oooooooh!” he said, with an evil cackle. “Ickle Firsties! What fun!”

 

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

 

“Go away, Peeves, or the Baron’ll hear about this, I mean it!” barked Percy.

 

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville’s head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

 

“You want to watch out for Peeves,” said Percy, as they set off again. “The Bloody Baron’s the only one who can control him, he won’t even listen to us prefects. Here we are.”

 

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

 

“Password?” she said.

 

“Caput Draconis,” said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

 

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

 

“Great food, isn’t it?” Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. “Get off, Scabbers! He’s chewing my sheets.”

 

Harry was going to ask Ron if his parents knew anything about the corridor of doom (which was what harry had decided to refer to it as), but he fell asleep almost at once.

 

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell’s turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

 

He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn’t remember the dream at all. Fortunately, he did remember all about his questions.

 

“Do any of your parents knew anything about the corridor of doom?” He asked his roommates.

 

“Corridor of doom?”

 

“It’s what I decided to nickname the ‘third-floor corridor on the right-hand side that is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.’” Harry quoted.

 

“You added a that.” Neville pointed out.

 

“Whatever. It’s close enough.” Harry said.

 

“No.” Seamus answered “Why should they?”

 

“There is something that could cause a painful death inside a school.” Harry said dryly.

 

“Good point. I’ll asked mine, and everyone else should ask theirs.”

 

“My mum is a muggle. She wouldn’t know anything.” Dean said.

 

“Neither would my relatives.” Harry said.

 

“Wait. I thought you lived with some secretive magical family?” Neville said.

 

“Who said that?” Harry asked.

 

“Dumbledore said that he had hidden you with a magical family, after your parents died.”

 

“Nope. I grew up with my muggle relatives. I didn’t know about magic until my letter came.”

 

“So you were given the muggleborn packet, too?” Dean asked.

 

“What muggleborn packet?” Harry asked.

 

Dean rummaged through his trunk for a few minutes before producing two books and an

informational booklet.

 

“No, I never got those. What’s in them?”

 

“Well this book is about various jobs in the magical world, laws we need to follow, and magical creatures. The other one is about how to use magic properly, things we need to be careful about, how to identify other wizards in the muggle world, and how to hide your magic from muggles. The packet is about how to use your magic, and stuff like Occlumency, and magical places.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t know any of that stuff. Can I borrow those?”

 

“Sure!” Dean said as the rest of the boys finish their letters.

 

“We should talk to the girls, and maybe the first years in other houses, to see if their parents

know anything.” Neville suggested.

 

“Good idea!”

 

After their classes where over, the boys wandered around until they found the owlery, where Seamus tied the letter to his owl’s leg, and Neville and Ron tied theirs to Hedwig’s. The girls and several other first years from other houses where going to finish writing their letters, then mailing them later.

 

“This school need a map.” Harry grumbled as they tried to find their way back to their common room.

 

A day later, while they were in Transfiguration, the school erupted in angry, screaming voices.

 

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

 

“It sounds like a lot of howlers.” Ron said.

 

Seeing Harry’s confused look, Neville added “They are letters that are enchanted to shriek and the reader at the top of their lungs.”

 

“Weird.” Harry said, and class continued on, ignoring the shrieking in the distance.

 

All of the students discovered what had happened during dinner when the doors slammed open.

A group of people all wearing red uniforms stormed in, looking angry. “Dumbledore, what is this I hear about there being something incredibly dangerous inside the school!?” The woman in the front asked, her voice deceptively calm.

 

Two days later, there were rumors strewn about the school. All of them were consistent in one thing, however. That was that Dumbledore had forced most of the teachers to create some sort of demented obstacle course protecting something that was put there to lure Voldemort in. Additionally, Professor. Quirrell had abruptly resigned. Things looked like they were changing. Harry didn’t really care, however. He was to busy reading the books that Dean had loaned him. He just hoped there wouldn’t be things like this happening again. He didn’t have much faith in it though. After all, it was a magic school.


	7. chapter 7

Harry woke to sound of a scream, and the sounds of something heavy hitting the floor and a door slamming. “Hermione!” Seamus yelped, causing Harry to yank the blankets that had tangled around his legs while he was asleep over his head.

 

“Knock next time!” Ron said, sounding muffled. Harry guessed that he had also pulled his blankets over his head.

 

“Out.” Dean said firmly, and Harry could hear his heavy footsteps escorting Hermione’s the few feet that she had gotten into the room, before shutting the door firmly and locking it.

 

“Is it safe?” Harry asked, just to make sure.

 

“Yeah.” Seamus said.

 

Harry emerged from his blankets to discover that Seamus had been the thud, as he was hiding under his bed. Neville had been the slam, as the bathroom door was firmly shut, though he had opened it after Hermione had been forced to leave. Out of all of them, Dean was the only one dressed for the day, as it was 7:30 am on a Sunday. Everyone else was wearing their pjs. As it was only the third day of school, and thus, still hot, Neville was the only one out of the four of them wearing a shirt.

 

“Why doesn’t the boy’s stairway have a slide thing like the girls does?” Harry asked.

 

“You know, I don’t know.” Neville said

 

“We should have one.” Seamus said, rubbing his head where he had hit it on the floor when he had dove under his bed.

 

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This starts in the cabin In the Sea, book one

 

BOOM.

 

They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

 

“Where’s the cannon?” he said stupidly.

 

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands – now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

 

“Who’s there?” he shouted. “I warn you — I’m armed!”

 

There was a pause. Then —

 

SMASH!

 

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

 

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway.

 

Harry froze, then shoved himself further into the corner that that he was hiding in. He could see Dudley valiantly trying to hide behind his mother- something that was doomed to failure.

 

His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

 

“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey…”

 

“Why would we want to make tea for someone who just broke in, at midnight, while we were asleep?!” Harry snapped, surprising himself with the outburst. He usually had better control then that.

 

“I was a friend of your parents.” the giant said hesitantly.

 

“I don’t care.” Harry snapped “You broke in! Now leave, or he will shoot you!” he yelled, gesturing towards his uncle.

 

“I’ll come back in the mornin’, then.” the giant muttered, stomping out. Harry resisted the urge to throw a sarcastic comment at him.

 

“I have a good idea.” Harry said, once the sound of overly large footsteps went away. “Lets get out of here!” For once, the Dursleys didn’t disagree.

 

Two days later, Harry was shown around the wizarding world by professor McGonagall, after the gamekeeper’s abject failure.

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This starts after the second task of the triwizard tournament

 

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum. Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry. . . . Did it take you ages to find us?"

 

Harry idly watched the beetle fly into the cold water of the lake, and responded "No... I found you okay.…". As he watched it, the beetle started struggling, and slowly went under water, fighting to get back to the air. ‘It must not of been a water beetle” harry thought.

 

Two days later the Daily Prophet was filled with news that reporter Rita Skeeter hadn’t shown up for work, and was missing. Harry never connected the dots between her disappearance and the beetle that had drowned. He was just glad that Skeeter couldn’t write anymore bad articles about him.


	8. Chapter 8

This starts in the first book 

“You’re joking.”

 

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he’d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he’d forgotten all about it.

 

“Seeker?” he said. “But first years never — you must be the youngest house player in about —”

 

“— a century,” said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. “Wood told me.”

 

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

 

“I start training next week,” said Harry. “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.”

 

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

 

“Well done,” said George in a low voice. “Wood told us. We’re on the team too — Beaters.”

 

“I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,” said Fred. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.”

 

“Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.”

 

“Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.”

 

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

 

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?”

 

“You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

 

“I’d take you on anytime on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only — no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?”

 

“Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling around. “I’m his second, who’s yours?”

 

“Wait, back up. Why would I duel you?” Harry asked. “And you know that there are an entire table of teachers staring at us. Who can probably guess what you are saying. And your bodyguards sitting there cracking their knuckles and looking like they want to punch us probably doesn’t help!”

 

“Honor. You can’t back out of a duel that you’ve already accepted, Potter.” Malfoy sneered.

 

“Fortunately, I didn’t accept it. What’s the point in it if all we can do is shoot sparks at each other? Oh, and did you know that there is a perfect standing behind you?” Harry smirked.

 

Malfoy spun around to meet Percy’s disapproving gaze.

 

Unfortunately, there was nothing Percy could do but warn them that they would be caught, then had to let the Slytherins go. He then warned Harry and Ron to not even think about going to the duel. Harry assured that he wouldn’t of gone, while Ron sulked.

 

Once he and Ron were alone, he exploded. “Why did you accept that for me?!”

 

“You have to do it!” Ron snapped.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you have to!” Ron exclaimed.

 

“Well, until you can give me a better answer then that, I’m not going.” Harry said, and stalked off to his next class, leaving Ron staring at him dumbfounded in the middle of the hall.

 

The next morning, Ron was in trouble for sneaking out and breaking curfew while Harry slept in his dorm room.

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This starts in the summer after first year

Harry Potter had a brilliant idea. While searching the entire library for information on Nicholas Flamel, he had discovered a charm that could turn ‘strange and barbarian’ muggle paper- of any kind-into ‘normal, civilized’ parchment. Even remembering those words, Harry had to resist laughter. That would not be a good idea, as he was currently locked up in his bedroom in the Dursley’s house. This place would never be his home. Yet, he had a feeling that Hogwarts would never be his home either- it was too backwards, too medieval. Anyways, back to Harry’s brilliant idea. One day he managed to escape the Dursley’s house with some of the money he had turned into muggle money- after all, what good was the massive fortune if he couldn’t use it in 90% of the world? He went to the local thrift store and bought two things- clothes that actually fit him (he didn’t care that they were old and a little threadbare- they fit, and that was all that counted) and an old fashioned typewriter and all of it’s supplies. It didn’t run on electricity, so he could bring it to Hogwarts. His essays would now be finished faster, and his handwriting would be neater! Muggles- 1. Wizards- 0!

 

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The random wizard quivered as he hid behind a bush and stared at the evil face only a dozen feet away from him. Gathering his nerves, he slowly aimed his wand. He would only have one shot at this. If he missed, he would be dead. There would be no escape. He muttered two words- “Avada Kedavra”, then watched as the sickly green curse hit the evil wizard. He watched as the surrounding minions freaked out at their leaders demise, then started taking pot-shots at the surrounding minions. He somehow managed to escape alive, reappearing near his friends, who stared at him from their respective hiding spots. “Dude.” one sputtered out “You just killed You-Know-Who!”

 

The random wizard managed a grim smile “and some minions, too. Now, I think we can still hit some of them from here.” He waited for a minute- they were all still staring at him “Well do I have to give you all engraved invitations?” He asked sharply, then aimed his wand at the minions who were still running in circles and losing their minds, and aimed a bone breaking curse at one. The minion’s friends in evility didn’t notice as he dropped dead. That galvanized his friends into action as well, and they managed to take out a good portion of Volde’s army before they were discovered and had to escape.

 

Later, the random wizard cursed the fact that his parents had gone to school with Volde, he had been born in the last few minutes of July, and the fact that he had scraped his knee while killing Volde.

 

Years later, Harry Potter was born and lived a normal life, thanks to the random wizard.


	9. Chapter 9

This starts after the troll attack in first year 

“We just nearly died! Why are you people not freaking out!" Hermione yelled at the teachers who were just standing around the bathroom door and staring at the troll's dead body. “Why didn’t anyone notice that I wasn’t at the feast, and come and warn me! Yes, they did, but they are first years- they shouldn’t have to.” She shrieked. She glared at the teachers crowded around the doorway. Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell stared back. Quirrell was still slumped on the toilet seat, whimpering every time he looked at the troll, and avoiding Hermione’s glare. If an 11 year old witch could scare him, how good of a teacher was he, Harry wondered.

 

“How often do things like this happen here?!” Hermione demanded to know. Meanwhile, her yelling seemed to have attracted Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

 

“Not very often, Ms. Granger, but this is a Magical school, and it is going to be more dangerous then a Muggle one.” Professor McGonagall tried to console her. It didn’t work.

 

“That just means you just need to prepare for things more! And I thought that Hogwart’s wards prevented thing like trolls!” She yelled. “Mark my words, if one more dangerous thing happens, my parents will pull me out of this school.”

 

“You can’t not go to magic school, Granger.” Snape sneered.

 

“There’s got to be other magic schools, right? I can always go to one of them, and trust me, as long as they are safe, my parents will support the decision.” she huffed, then stalked out the door, Harry and Ron following, while the teachers stared at them in amazement.

 

The teachers tightened up security, and no other incident happened that year other then Professor Quirrell disappearing, never to be seen again.

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This starts in the middle of third task

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head. “Where are we?” he said.

 

Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.

 

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles — perhaps hundreds of miles — for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing

instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

 

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry. “Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?” he asked.

 

“Nope,” said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?”

 

“I dunno,” said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. “Wands out, d’you reckon?”

 

“Yeah,” said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him. They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him.

 

He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched. “Someone’s coming,” he said suddenly.

 

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn’t make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And — several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time — Harry saw that the thing in the person’s arms looked like a baby . . . or was it merely a bundle of robes?

 

Harry lowered his wand slightly, and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure.

 

It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, Harry’s scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.

 

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

 

The second Harry heard Volde’s rasping voice, he shoved his shoulder into Cedric’s knees and pushed him to the ground. A hail of green curses flew over their heads, a few hitting the gravestones they had landing behind. Harry carefully aimed and sent an explosion hex towards the cauldron, before ducking back behind the gravestone.

 

The cauldron blew up spectacularly. Almost too spectacularly. Harry felt a little singed around the edges, but considering that there were no more curses flying towards them, he thought it was a fair trade. “Are you ok?” He asked Cedric.

 

“Warn me before you do that, next time!” He said. “I feel a little crispy, but otherwise ok.”

 

“Then let’s get out of here!” Harry exclaimed and ran over to where they left the portkey, with Cedric following him. “On three.” Harry said, “One, two, three!”

 

After more dizzying travel they back at Hogwarts, safe and sound.


End file.
